


My Name is Ozymandias, King of Kings

by Corypuffs



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: After November 16, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Dadza, Dysfunctional Family, Explosions, Family Dynamics, Gen, Ghost! Wilbur Soot, Grampza, Heavy Angst, President Tubbo, Rebuilding, Sad, Sad Toby Smith | Tubbo, Toby Smith | Tubbo and TommyInnit are Siblings, War, Wilbur Soot Needs a Hug, no respawn, real life minecraft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:14:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27614690
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Corypuffs/pseuds/Corypuffs
Summary: The hardest part about war is having to reconstruct the world afterwards. As the new president Tubbo struggles with the idea that his home is gone and that everyone must look to him now for leadership, he turns towards two of his friends for comfort. How is he supposed to run a country with L'Manburg still covered in ash and so many still injured or missing? Meanwhile, a certain ghost watches over the country that once was his.
Relationships: Eret & Toby Smith | Tubbo, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 69





	My Name is Ozymandias, King of Kings

**Author's Note:**

> The title is from the poem Ozymandias that techno brought up during the end of his stream. If you've never read it you should, it fits the story of L'Manburg very well :) Also, I haven't written anything in a long time so if its bad im so sorry but I'm going to start writing more for this fandom since I'm really into it right now. I hope you like it!

Fundy and Quackity gazed down at the crater that once was L’Manburg. Fundy’s old home, and the land Quackity had only began to consider a home. The fire from the explosions and withers had already died down but the charred remains of the once familiar buildings laid eerily still like a graveyard. President-elect Tubbo had already started reconstruction of the ruined land, though it would be months before anyone would want to return to the war site. He was determined, however. A few nights after the war while helping gather food for the survivors he made the final decision that they would rebuild L’Manburg. Tommy had immediately jumped on board with his brother's choice and from there there wasn’t much arguing with the young president.

Their friends who had been injured in the chaos had already been taken to safety, either to Pogtopia or to Eret’s - no, King George’s - castle. Quackity’s arm was in a sling from being crushed under one of the podium pillars, and Fundy’s tail had been almost completely burned off due to standing on top of one of the initial explosives. Yet, they had some of the least gruesome injuries of the survivors. The only confirmed deaths were that of the former presidents, Schlatt and Wilbur, who had received a small funeral at the top of Pogtopia with bricks from the lost country being used as gravestones. Although there were still some missing, namely Antfrost, Bad, and Purpled, most were expected to survive. Lookout teams headed by Tommy and Philza had been digging through the rubble, torches in hand calling out to their missing friends, but there still hadn’t been any sign of them.

Fundy and Quackity sat still together at the top of a cliff overlooking the massive crater, just breathing, staring down at the ruined land. Later, they would help with reconstruction, but at the moment it was time to mourn the loss of their country. Fundy’s mind was overwhelmed with thoughts of his late father, he remembered how loving his father had been during his youth. The man who had died in the war was not the same one who had raised the fox. He squeezed his palms together to try to stop the tears, his sharp nails cutting into his skin, but one by one they fell. Memories of birthdays, and sword training, and their family home near a river all washed over him in waves. He knew what his father did was awful but he couldn’t bring himself to hate him. He remembers his grandfather pulling Wilbur's limp body out of the control room and screaming. He wanted to hate Wilbur, he needed to hate Wilbur for what he had done. But as Philza held onto his weeping grandson hate was the farthest thing from Fundy's mind. He just wanted his father back. So as he sat down above the land his father had ruined he let his mind wander back to when Wilbur initially said he wanted to start a new country. And as he reminisced Quackity started shaking beside him.

The former cabinet member had hated Schlatt. At least he thought he did, but that was before he had watched the man have a heart attack in front of them all. He was a corrupt leader sure, but he wasn’t truly bad. Through it all he had been a good friend to Quackity, and a funny one at that. He may have been an asshole, but on the inside he had been caring. He always gave Quackity advice and comfort when his position became too stressful. But in the end it didn’t really matter, Schlatt was gone permanently. As thoughts of the ram swarmed Quackity’s head, his hands wouldn't stop shaking, and the tie hanging around his neck acted as a permanent noose reminding him of the friend he had lost.

Standing in the crater, President Tubbo wiped the sweat off of his forehead and gazed up at the cliff where the former president’s son and the cabinet member were sitting side by side. He looked back down at the rubble around him and sighed, even after hours of work his progress was barely visible. The only difference was that some of the wood from the podium had been organized into piles to be moved later. Eret and Niki had agreed to come help after tending to the rest of the wounded. Tubbo remembered the day he had finally decided to start rebuilding. He was in George’s castle with the others, Eret was grabbing bandages from one of the supply rooms to help patch up Skeppy who had been badly burned. Bad was still missing, and Skeppy had insisted they not leave L'Manburg until they found his friend. However, the blood loss from his extensive injuries had knocked him out. When he woke up in the castle with Bad nowhere to be seen he had lashed out at everyone, tears streaming down his face, until Niki eventually calmed him down from his rage. Niki was still in the medical room, helping everyone who was injured. Tubbo hadn't seen her sleep for at least 2 days; she was too occupied keeping watch over their injured companions. Tubbo had once heard the analogy that Niki was like an angel but her determination to help her friends and family made him think she really belonged in heaven. 

Tubbo paced back and forth across the castle. He was waiting for Tommy and the rest of the search party to come back for the night when a firm hand fell on his back.  
“Tubbo, I know we don’t have the best relationship together but they will be okay,” Eret said softly, “We will find them but you’re of no help here. Go to sleep and tomorrow you should start your reconstruction” Tubbo looked up at Eret with a questioning grimace.  
“What, you want me to leave? If I was in your way you coulda just said so yaknow”  
Eret shook his head, a breath left his lips. “No no Tubbo, what I mean is that if me and Niki don’t help these people we will have more casualties, but if you don’t start reconstruction the citizens-no- your citizens, will have no home to go back to.” Eret gave a tired smile to the boy who still looked unsure and sighed. He reached up a hand to his face and dragged his glasses down slowly, revealing glassy white eyes that had been damaged in the first war.   
“Tubbo we all need you but not here.”  
Tubbo gulped down air he didn’t even know he was holding and nodded.  
So there he was the next morning, trudging though the mess that once was Mann- no, L’manburg. The first step was removing the piles of wood from the fallen buildings. He started with his least favorite. 

Digging through the scraps of the podium was not a pleasant experience for Tubbo, no matter how much he knew he had to do it, both for him and for his people. Every time he grabbed onto the pieces of charred wood he swore he could smell the sour air of fireworks and could see a waving red cape out of the corner of his eye. He could almost feel the intense stabbing pain of a firework hitting his chest. It no longer hurt, but if he closed his eyes the memories still burned. His breathing started to speed up and his knees locked. His hands subconsciously moved to the scar on his chest as the memories of the festival and the battle raced through his mind. He had never wanted any of this; he had just wanted to have a safe home with his chosen family. Now his family was heavily injured, and Wilbur, the man he had once looked up to, was dead.  
Hot tears slid down Tubbo’s cheeks as his legs hit the ash-covered ground.  
“I’m sorry I’m sorry im sorry I’m sorry,” he cried over and over again. He didn’t know what or who he was apologizing to. His friends? L’Mamburg? Tommy? Wilbur? It didn’t matter as the boys words jumbled together until there were only sobs as he rocked himself covered in the ashes of his home.

It was when he heard a light strumming coming from above him that he snapped out of his dreadful memories. Quackity had brought out a guitar, it was out of tune and had obviously been damaged by the explosion, but it still worked and that was enough for the mourning men.  
Tubbo wiped the tears off his face onto his bee print shirt and climbed up the side of the cliff to be with his friends. 

The rhythmic strumming of the guitar got louder and louder with each step, until voices could be heard accompanying the sound. They were humming L’Manburg’s anthem. Tubbo sat down in the soft grass behind the men, and let the familiar song sink in. Fundy acknowledged him with a nod while Quackity simply opened his eyes to look at their new visitor. Quackity paused before starting the song over; together they started singing.  
“I heard there was a sacred place”  
Fundy was behind in the lyrics.  
“Where men could go and emancipate”  
Quackity’s guitar was still badly out of tune.  
“The brutality and the tyranny of their rulers”  
Tears formed in Tubbo's eyes.  
“But this place is real you needn’t fret”  
Fundy’s ears perked up and he turned to look at the rubble.  
“With Wilbur Tommy Tubbo fuck Eret”  
Tubbo chuckled at the line.  
“A very big and not blown up L’Manburg”  
At that, all eyes shifted to the crater, briefly Quackity’s hands hesitated, tears caught in their eyes as if the whole world had paused around them, but the moment was broken once again by the strumming.  
“My L’Manburg, my L’Manburg, my L’Manburg...” their singing cut off, their eyes stinging with silent tears, either for the loss of their country or their friends, they were unsure. After a few minutes of quiet Fundy turned towards Tubbo, his bloody stub of a tail lazily falling to the ground.   
“How’s it going down there pres?” The fox asked.  
Tubbo sighed, “I would say it’s progress but it’s not much if I’m gonna be honest...it’ll be a while before it’s cleared out”  
Fundy hummed in response and Quackity turned his attention back to the guitar, quietly strumming the chords of the tune. The three of them sat there until nightfall, telling stories and reminiscing on the lost land before heading back to the castle to report on their findings and check on the wounded.   
Crickets buzzed around the destroyed land blissfully unaware of all the suffering the people residing there had just gone through. The stars' lights reflected off of the twisted bloody metal sticking out of L’Manburgs crumpled figure. And if one would look close enough, where the three men had sat previously, you could see a tall figure. His skin was pale and a beanie laid lazily on his head as he tapped out a quiet tune on his side. His sad gaze fell upon the country that was once his, and although he no longer had a body, it felt like his heart was being torn in two. Everyday he followed his old family and friends around, observing as they rebuilt the land he had destroyed. When they buried his bloody body he stood behind his own father hugging him and apologizing to him. Although his words were unheard by the mourning man, every once in a while, while Phil was gathering supplies he swore he could feel arms wrapping around him. Sometimes he would even see a glimpse of his son out of the corner of his eye and smile sadly, knowing that Wilbur forgave him for his death and for his failure to be a better father.  
But even though not all of them had survived that dreadful day, life moved on on the SMP.

Tubbo continued his reconstruction, Niki and Eret kept tending to the wounded, the missing were found deep in the woods, the crickets continued chirping, the stars kept shining, and the ghostly figure continued to gaze upon the land each night humming out a tune.  
“My L’Manburg..... my L’Manburg...”


End file.
